


If You Only Remember It Once

by foxinschlox



Category: K (Anime)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxinschlox/pseuds/foxinschlox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Miss Awashima Seri finds herself in an unfamiliar district, waiting on a shuttle, and remembers too late that bad luck rolls around in threes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Only Remember It Once

**Author's Note:**

> (I guess this is an AU? I just wish they could've all hung out as kids..)

_So much for plans._

She checked her PDA and tapped a skinny heel against the concrete. The time glared back: late. This was very inconvenient. Afternoon crowds with somewhere to be steadily disembarked the green line, parting en masse around her. 

The plan had been this: their team was to be driven from the terminal to the local high school for the semester’s final tournament.

But none of the other students had waited up for her, leaving far too early for sightseeing around this unfamiliar district. There was honestly nothing to see; she checked well beforehand.

Miss Awashima had arrived precisely on time, but the shuttle hadn’t.

This was very unprofessional.

Time crawled on, and eventually dragged her out from the terminal to the shade of a nearby shop’s awning.

Flipping through the screen she found the quickest route to the host school – 20 minutes on foot.  _Click click click._  30 minutes in heels.

Then, the sound of wheels.

It wasn’t the shuttle.

It was three boys piled onto a single bicycle.   
Not quite a circus act, but it was enough to earn a second glance.

Once they circled the roundabout the tall-ish young man in the driver’s seat parked his bike under her awning’s shade. It was fast becoming a gathering place for the unfortunate. Hauling extra weight in the early summer heat made him pant, leaning over the handle bars and pushing the sweaty, wavy fringe out of his eyes with a forearm.

The littlest managed to fit into the front metal basket with his skinny legs dangling over one side. In an unbuttoned middle school uniform he looked apart, more like he’d been freshly scooped up from a playground somewhere.  
The bulkiest one sat backwards on the rack over the hind wheel; messily redheaded, heels bared into the concrete to anchor them down. When he scowled at her she scowled right back.  
Mutual acceptance.

But it was their chauffeur who waved for her attention: “You look like you need a ride to somewhere.”

“You look like you need another bike. Or two,” she observed before her attention snapped back where it belonged, looking for the shuttle. Peeking out to see further down the street, she stepped down from the curve then back again in a shuffling little dance of impatience.

“Yeah maybe if some people didn’t use theirs for extreme stunts,” he threw a telling glance behind him.  
A yawn answered from the one in the back.

“And mine got stolen just yesterday. It’s so weird,” piped the little one from his front basket.

“Look, I’m sorry but I’m very late.”

“So you do need a ride? Right now?” the one in the driver’s seat leaned further over the handle bars. Any more and he would slide over them completely.

“Yes  _right now._  I’ve got fifteen minutes to make this meet and I can’t be bothered with – ”

….It was like an out-of-body experience, realizing fully what she had agreed to: riding propped up on the seat of an over-crowded bike with three sweaty guys she didn’t know. Miss Awashima managed to get on almost-side-saddle in her fawn colored skirt. Heels locked onto the bottom bar of the frame to give her the illusion of stability.

Kusanagi Izumo stood stiff-legged on the pedals when they weren’t turning. And they were hell to get turning at first under the added weight. Not that he’d let it show. When the bike picked up speed he felt her grip curl tighter into the fabric of his shirt. And was content.

“Don’t worry. I guarantee we’ll deliver you on time~”

“You’re late on the pitch.”

“Just trying to make the ride go a little smoother…”

Hopping the curve made a point of his bad timing – both wheels jarred the entire bike on their way down. The chains made an awful rattling noise from then on.

“Thanks.” She tried pushing back the tangled hair that had blown all into in her face.

They took the street in favor of the sidewalk, which meant weaving around parked and moving cars rather than people. Now this was starting to feel like a circus act; now she was piled on top for everyone to see.

While rolling along their ringleader introduced the three of them properly.

From what she observed they were a kind of absurd spectrum of personality, ranging from the intense to the flighty. The one in the middle… lukewarm. With something cunning bubbling under the surface. It was just in the way he talked her up. Miss Awashima’s nose wrinkled.

“Don’t let the tough looks fool you. Especially on that one,” Kusanagi’s brow rose over his shoulder “We’re almost sure he’s got a heart of solid gold – hasn’t been tested yet though.”

“Yeah King’s the best.”

“Rag on somebody else for a change,” mumbled Suoh.

“I see,” said Miss Awashima and felt him lean back to back with her, getting more comfortable anyhow.

They slipped around a turn, picking up speed, hugging the curve of the sidewalk’s edge tight with the creak of hot rubber against concrete.

Suoh would stiffen and shift his weight. If he was aware of how his slightest movement made it feel like the whole bike was going to tip he certainly didn’t care.

“What are you going to at the school?” Tatara asked her, head tilted upside down from the side of the basket.

“A debate tournament. I’m meant to be first chair but by now I’m not so sure.”

“What’s first chair?”

“First speaker. I open our case.”

“Ohh!” he looked completely enthralled. “Can we come watch? Sounds like fun.”

Kusanagi pumped the breaks and sort of laughed. Like it was the last place they’d be let in.

“It really isn’t. At least not at this level. And not much of a spectator sport either.”

She felt the need to assure the kid this was just standard procedure. Bright eyes peeking back at her were becoming too much.

“Then why do you do it?”

Luckily (or maybe not) she wouldn’t have to explain the demands of involvement expected of the student council head of a private prep school. Because Kusanagi’s gentle working on the breaks suddenly turned to screeching.

“ _SHIT_.”

It wasn’t just the red flash of the light at the intersection ahead that caused a spike of bad atmosphere.

It was the form of another, more feral-looking young man eyeing them from the street corner. He emerged between parked cars on fluid steps, into their skinny bicycle lane.

And greeted, “ ‘Ay.”

This was the worst place to stop. The guy was built for his age –  like running into a wall when one of his open tongued boots stopped their front wheel. The underarms of his loose black muscle shirt swung low when he moved, dark and sandy blond-tipped fringe over one eye swaying with them.

“Class’s out, kids. Didn’t think you guys had any business rolling through this way.”

He laid hands firm on the front of the basket, made sure there was no way for them to take off in any direction.

“But it’s always a good time. I was starting to feel avoided – next thing y'know he’s hauling a new girlfriend over just to meet me.”

His slippery eye contact with their driver seemed too familiar, before it slid to her and down to lock a predatory gaze on their smallest passenger.

“Another one of your boys?”

She kept her voice low but curled manicured nails into Kusanagi’s sides, patience thinning.

“Once upon a time,” he gritted even lower.

His acquaintance loomed over, forcing Tatara to sink deeper down into the basket the closer he pulled it in.

“Unless you brought the kid back to have another swing? Last time was too much fun.”

Miss Awashima felt the muscles in Suoh’s back go rigid against her own. Tensed with dormant power that could rival anything the other guy was packing. Still, he waited.

“Save it Kane. We’re running late.”

Kusanagi didn’t lose any of his cool, but held a close grip on the back of Tatara’s collar to keep him from playing into the threat. He threw some his own weight forward. Just as a reminder who won the last round.

“And I’d really appreciate it if y'kept the hands  _off_ , thanks.”

“See, that’s always been Izumo’s problem,” the guy brushed two fingers under Tatara’s chin, like petting on a kitten,  
“he just loves playing daddy. Gets all worked up.”

“That’s why you’re itching? Daddy’s not around to look after you anymore?”

From the hind rack Suoh gave a half-amused chuff.Kane tilted the bike to get a better eye on him.

“You got something to say to me back there?”

“Nah. It’s just the lady’s about ready for you to fuck off.”

“Some of us have places to be,” Miss Awashima sliced in with the light’s flash of green ahead, and held his stare. The chill in her tone left them all with touch of frostbite – “Not that this hasn’t been  _a good time_.”

“The lady is, huh.”

Guessing she would be easiest to pluck off to get things riled up faster, Kane snatched her wrist, defying Kusanagi’s protective reach to check him off.

“Let’s hear her say it t’ my face~”

But Miss Awashima was past done playing around with the neighborhood kids. The heel of her free palm caught him fast and hard under the chin. Second course: Suoh lunged, grabbed him up tight by the neck of his shirt just as a stiletto heel unhitched from the bike frame and precision kicked into his gut.   
Nothing fancy. All they had to do was hold things steady for her.  
The wind knocked straight out of his chest, and she watched him buckle down to the asphalt without so much as flutter of her eyes.

Miraculously (but not without a huff), Suoh obeyed Miss Awashima’s commanding gesture to sit back on the rack, only in time for their driver to gun it out of there. Kane was left writhing behind before the light could go yellow.

“Let me finish ’m!”  
Tatara climbed halfway out of the basket in the middle of the four-way intersection. Car horns blared. It took all of Kusanagi’s might and balance to pull him in without letting the kid drag against the pavement. Tatara came back up shaken, but wiser, and clingier.

Thanks to the street’s slope their wheels got going faster past the light.  
The burst of speed pressed Miss Awashima into their driver’s back for an accidental moment. Pressed her into white linen and the scent of smoke. Faint like left over from a stolen break between classes.

It had taken so long to notice they all bore a light air of smoke around them. She wondered if the little one did any of that himself.

Anything to keep her mind off of checking for the time.

Kusanagi took a sharp a detour into the high school’s neighboring park. This was the fastest way to cut through and he’d be damned if they ran into any more lights or acquaintances. Unpaved ground meant kicking up dirt, but at that point no one felt like complaining.  
At least not about the dirt.

“Excuse me, but what was  _that_?” Miss Awashima glared behind them, then back at their driver once they were in the clear.

“What was what?”  
His pedaling grew more erratic as he pushed them up a hill.

“ _That_. Back there.”

“Ah, you know,” he panted, “typical drama.”

“Kusanagi-san left Kane and his guys for us! Now he’s really mad,” Tatara spouted off,“ 'cause they were _really_  close.”

“That’s enough kid, can we just…”

“Until King came along.”

“I see.”

“Some of the high school girls said Kusanagi-san used to – ”

“HEY.”  
His palm snuck around and over Tatara’s running mouth.

In the split second it took for the driver’s attention to deviate a rut caught the bike’s front wheel.   
The larger of his delinquent friends leaned a little too far off the side and that’s all it took to send them vertical down the side of hill their path rode over.

Everything went by, it seemed, in slow motion. From the moments spent airborne to the loose rattling of bike chains.

Tatara anticipated his landing from the moment the everything started to tip and hit the slope in an almost graceful roll, tucking skinny limbs close into himself.

“See, that’s the way you’re supposed to fall off of a horse if you ever get thrown,” he yelled to the unresponsive heap of Suoh Mikoto lying not far away.

After gathering herself from the crash Miss Awashima sat up with her legs crossed just so. She disregarded Kusanagi’s call to check if she was alright. Grass stains smudged her blouse; the uniform bow tucked under the collar had fallen loose, and a frown of extreme disapproval aimed square down at him.

Kusanagi caught himself wondering if there was anything left he could do about that. It’d be difficult from upside down with handlebar gouged into his chest.   
He threw off the bike.

Kusanagi offered out an apologetic hand expecting she’d want to set off again quick. Or otherwise ditch them and continue on foot.

“Giving up already?”

“No. Just let me breathe,” she ordered like cracking a whip. Perfectly composed.

Both hands up, he left a comfortable space between them where he settled back down in the grass. Watched Tatara in his desperate attempts to nudge, push and pull Suoh up from the ground. All that dead weight wouldn’t budge and only groaned when the kid’s last attempt was more like a rolling dogpile on top of him. At least someone was having fun.   
Kusanagi dropped his head and smiled, weak. It certainly had been late for guarantees he couldn’t fulfill. No more promises, he promised himself.

“Sorry we ended up making things worse. That… happens more than I wanna’ admit. I mean I really screwed this up. Personally.”

He couldn’t decipher Miss Awashima’s expression. But she was watching them too. Considering perhaps fate never meant for her to make this tournament.

“I’m not surprised. Somewhere I heard that bad luck comes in threes,” gathered her hair thoughtfully to one side,  
“or was it  _’_ death comes in threes’?”

“Whoa. We get into it, sure, but nothing too serious.”

“I’m certain I would have noticed that right off, but I was distracted at the time”

“Oh?”  
He stretched out contentedly.

“- by an unswerving sense of duty.”

“Look guys! I did it!”

Tatara hoisted Suoh’s front half up by the neck to prove his strength. It took counting down from 3 for the smaller boy to eat grass, caught by the collar from underneath and pulled down into a headlock. Smothered yelps for mercy followed.

“Tap out, idiot!” Kusanagi shouted over their wrestling noise. There was no way keep on a straight or sorry face.

Miss Awashima thought about her debate team, likely floundering without her direction. And suddenly a very grown up sort of exhaustion washed over her. To be depended on, so much of the time – most of the time – is wearing.

And she wondered if it wore on him too.  
_No._  She thought.  _This one_ _’_ _s_ _too frivolous._

“Didn’t hit anything vital on the way down did ya’?”

He noticed her spacing out and, with caution, waved a hand in front of her face.

“It’s fine. Just don’t tell anyone I let myself have a moment. I usually bounce back from trauma faster,” she rested her cheek on drawn up knees, appreciating the breeze ruffling through grass on an admittedly pretty day.  
“And honestly this wasn’t the worst place we could have crashed.”

“Honestly I’d love to be the devil on your shoulder telling you to stick around with us longer.. go back and find some more neighborhood kids to rough up,” he raised a teasing fist for her to palm back down. Her touch was firm and didn’t stay for long.

“But you’ve got a lot more than that wicked uppercut going for you. The best I can do is look out for my own.”

“I hope it’s worth it,” she said with an edge of pity.

Because Suoh had wandered over with the squirming runt in both arms locked around under his shoulders – like a child carrying a puppy all wrong – so that Tatara’s legs were flailing in his best friend’s face.

“Can you take that somewhere else?!” Kusanagi’s laughter betrayed him in the struggle to wrangle Tatara’s lower half under control.

“Nah.”

They were obviously enjoying themselves.  
In the moment Miss Awashima had never felt so un-pressed for time. So willingly, equally lazy. She almost felt like taking off her shoes, until responsibility began to tug at her again.  
_There’s no sense in staying like this._

Her eyes said it all. Kusanagi managed to shoo his friends off, and rolled stained sleeves further up his arms before she let him help her to her feet.

He intended to finish the job; to look out for her too.

“The school’s a straight shot from here. Take the bike and leave it out. No worries.”

The winds changed on a short whistle from the corner of his lips. It was time for her to go.

At the call Tatara weaseled out of the older boy’s hold easy as he could have all along. He scrambled back up to the path, pulling the bike upright and holding the front steady so she could climb on.

“Good luck!”

Seri Awashima nodded her thanks. Already infected with his encouraging little grin.

After watching her disappear past the gate at the park’s end Kusanagi finally shook and winced at the twisted ankle he’d broken their fall with.

“Aw~ you really were putting on a tough face.”

“You thought that was tough?”

“We could wait 'til she’s done. Then you could give her a ride back to the station yourself.”

“Aren’t you full’ve helpful information today,” Kusanagi was next to grab his head and tussle his hair, “too bad it’d be way past your bed time before you’d get home.”

“I’m not walking all the way back from there,” a single protestor growled at their backs. The teasing was lost on him. Suoh shouldered in between them, apparently feeling left out.

 

* * *

 

When the tournament was over she caught herself staring at the place the bike had been. An empty space on the rack where she had abandoned it by the front doors. The group milled around her in the pink-orange tinted light of evening, talking up a comeback victory.

Most of them, young men in identical suit coats and shirts pressed just so. Uncomplaining through the heat. They didn’t smell of smoke. Didn’t fade away like it either.


End file.
